


She's Thunderstorms

by elanev91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Arctic Monkeys inspired, F/M, James loves it, Lily is a tease, Party, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-04 23:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elanev91/pseuds/elanev91
Summary: NSFW Jily fic inspired by the Arctic Monkeys binge I went on today. Muggle AU, Modern AU, Fancy Party AU (thing?)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I love the Arctic Monkeys and I could not resist. This is some kind of smutty AU with some kind of tone.

She's teasing him again.

She knows she shouldn't, not when they're out in public and there are people _literally_ everywhere, but she also can't bring herself _not_ to when looks the way that he does. He knows that she can't help herself when he's in a suit - his chaotic hair and perpetually crooked glasses clash so violently with the crisp, polished lines of his formal dress, that she honestly can't be held responsible for the places that her mind goes. He's all broad shoulders and smooth lines and cheeky smiles with a truly spectacular arse, and, really, how is she supposed to resist?

She's fighting a losing battle the minute he arrives at her flat to pick her up.

They're at another one of those bloody galas, another fundraiser for another cause hosted by another rich family, and as much as she hates going to these things, as long as she's on James' arm, she doesn't mind them too much. James has had to go to these things since he was sixteen, so at least she hasn't had to put up with them as long as he has. He only continues to go because he knows how important all these causes are to his mother and he wants to be a "supportive son" - Lily supposes she can't fault him for it.

Euphemia and Fleamont are floating through the crowd somewhere, the last she saw Sirius, he had Remus by the hand and was dragging him into the centre of the dance floor no one ever really danced on, but her eyes are locked on James, have been locked on James since the moment he picked her up at her flat wearing that bloody tuxedo. He was trying to talk to Lord Glastonbury or whatever the fuck his name is ( _God, wouldn't that be funny, Lord of a giant bloody mud pit_ ), but Lily decided that she'd had enough, thank you very much, of standing there smiling like she actually gave a fuck about these people and their eight hundred horses or whatever James is talking to them about. And so, when James cracks another joke about something she can't remember, she presses her hand into his forearm, leans her chest _just_ close enough that it brushes his upper arm, and from the way that he looks at her, she knows that he knows that it's on.

He tries to shoot her a warning look, a _please god you're going to kill me if you keep doing this_ look, but he should know from the glint in her eye that she has no intention of doing any such thing.

Though she does bide her time.

He knows the game is on, and she can see him watching her out of the corner of his eye, hyperaware of every little movement that she's making, waiting for her to touch him in a way just a _bit_ too inappropriate for the Savoy ballroom - his attention is exactly what she wanted and, really, he should know better by now.

She doesn't really start playing until they're sitting at dinner. James and Sirius are no longer seated together because all the families the Potter's socialise with have learned that putting James and Sirius at the same table only spells trouble (as the ice swan at the 2010 fundraiser for Great Ormond Street can attest to). It doesn't matter that they're 25 now, that their antics no longer involved ice creatures of any kind - the people have learned their lesson, and so Lily and James are seated as far apart from Sirius and Remus as it is physically possible to get. James always sulks a bit at first because the seating arrangement usually means he gets stuck with the rich, older couples who find him charming, and he _hates_ having to talk about polo and all that other nonsense all night (Sirius is still not trusted enough to sit with anyone other than the slightly delinquent cousins and he wouldn't prefer it any other way). James sits there though, with a broad smile on his face, determined to look like he's not thinking about stabbing a fork into his eye while Lord So-And-So talks about his fox hunt or whatever it is he does, and at the first opportunity, Lily uses James' determined composure to her advantage.

Tonight, her opportunity comes early, really, really early. Soup course early.

The servers have just whisked back off to wherever it is they go while the insufferable people in the ballroom pretend to eat, Lily sets her napkin in her lap as she laughs at a joke Lady Whoever has just told, and only one of her hands returns back to the table.

She takes a bite of her soup, hums appreciatively, turns and smiles at James, "The soup is lovely, don't you think?"

James nods, but he's gone stiff, his back rigid in his chair, and his hand trembles a bit when he sets his spoon back into the bowl. Lily just smiled at him, turned back to Lady Whoever with a broad smile on her face, "How's Angelina enjoying university," slid her hand a bit higher up James' thigh.

They've done this enough that he knows what's coming, that her palm pressing flat against his groin isn't exactly a surprise, but he still clears his throat a bit more forcefully than necessary to cover the groan she knows he wants to make. She knows better than to turn and look at him, knows it will give them away, so she smiles at Lord Whoever, asks how he knows the host, as she rubs her hand just a bit more over James' nearly-there erection before she moves her hand back up to the table, picks up her drink, smiles at James, "We were at that gala last month as well, weren't we?"

The satisfied smirk on her face really should have warned him that she's nowhere near done with him.

She finds excuses to make noises that should be illegal in the middle of conversation (" _OH_ , I bet she's enjoying University College" or " _Mmm_ , that sounds divine _,_ Pomona"), lets her fingers brush against James' on top of the table, presses the side of her thigh against his (and of course her dress has shimmied up her legs, of course it bloody has), and by the time they get to pudding, James is so on edge he's not sure how he hasn't either melted into a puddle or had a bloody heart attack.

Though, after spending the whole of the pudding course watching Lily eat crème brûlée, he realises that she'd been taking it easy on him.

Lily'd taken an interest in the woman on James' left, not, James realises a bit too late, because she's particularly interested in talking with her about her newest granddaughter, but because she can catch James' eye as she eats custard off her spoon in a way that is going to give him a stroke.

And he _hates_ her, but _holy fucking hell_ does he love her.

The servers whisk away their final course, come around and offer tea as the band begins to play a bit louder and people begin to move around the room again. James stands, thankful that he'd managed to get himself under control enough that he can stand without risking eternal embarrassment, and extends his hand to Lily, "Care to dance, love?"

He hears the woman Lily had been talking to earlier click her tongue appreciatively, whisper "Now, Alfred, remember when we were that young," to her husband, but once Lily smiles back at him, a broad, knowing smile, it's like everything else in the world falls away and it's only her. She raises an eyebrow, "I'd love to," places her hand in his and stands.

He moves his hand to the small of her back as they begin moving away from the table, presses her closer into his side, leans down and whispers, "We're dancing _one_ dance and then we're going somewhere."

He spins her as soon at they reach the floor, takes her right hand in his left, begins to move them through a simple waltz. His palm is hot against her back, the pads of his fingers pressing into her dress, as he pulls her tight against him, so close that it's almost difficult to move her legs through the right steps, steps that she's already horrible at doing anyway. But James has been dancing ballroom since he was eleven, and he knows how to move her through steps she can't execute without making them look horribly stupid, so it almost doesn't matter.

The band completes whatever song they're playing and James' hand immediately drops hers, and he spins, his hand pressing a bit harder into her back, as he leads her through the crowd, towards the doors out into the corridor. He's talking with her about something that happened at the firm last week, a story he's already told her, but she's laughing loudly and appreciatively, making their presence known while disguising their intent.

They've been to more galas at the Savoy than Lily cares to remember, but their knowledge of the hotel pays off as James hurries her down the corridor just outside the ballroom doors, around a series of corners and into the fire stairs at the other end of the hotel. His hands are in her hair the moment the door shuts behind them, and when his mouth meets hers, it's hot, insistent, impatient, and she smiles against him as he presses his hips a bit frantically against hers. He moves his mouth across her jaw, along her neck, as he slowly walks her backwards towards the alcove under the stairs, "You think it's funny teasing me like that, Evans?"

He takes her earlobe between his teeth and she gasps, pushes her hips into him, "Yes." It was exactly the cheeky answer he was expecting, hoping for because _fuck_ he loves it when she teases him, and he moves his hands to her hips, turns her on the spot, and presses her chest against the wall.

Lily sucks in a sharp breath as James presses his lips to the side of her neck, his fingers trailing lightly across her skin as he moves her hair over her shoulder, kisses the back of her neck. "James," she shifts like she's going to turn around and James presses his hips against her arse, takes her earlobe between his teeth, and she shudders.

"Fuck, James," she rests her forehead on the cool concrete, one of James' hands moves up to cup her breast, the other starts tugging up the hem of her dress. Her breathing is embarrassingly loud and she knows that if anyone is in the stairs _at all_ they'll be able to hear her, but James is running his fingers slowly, torturously slowly, over the inside of her thigh and she can't bring herself to care about anything else.

"Do you like torturing me, Evans?"

His voice is quiet, but his chest is pressed up against her back and she can feel the sound rumbling through her, his words rough even as his fingers trace gentle lines over her skin. His left hand is barely brushing against her breast, his fingers are resting lightly on her thigh, and she knows he's doing it on purpose, trying to get her to beg him for it.

She turns her head so that her eyes meet his briefly before she kisses him again. He hums against her lips, and she gasps into his mouth as he cups her breast, grinds his hips a bit more urgently into her. His fingers move just a bit higher on the inside of her thigh, but they're still not high enough and she whimpers ( _fuck_ ) against his lips, "James, please."

His grin, the bastard, is positively wicked, and she's considering telling him to go fuck himself when he pulls her dress up around her hips and brushes his hand against the outside of her knickers. "Oh, _fuck,_ " her knees buckle a bit and James' hand grabs her breast tighter, keeps her upright. She shifts to press the top of her head into the concrete ( _wouldn't do to have a bunch of lines pressed into my forehead when we go back_ ), breathes a laugh, "Glad you could keep me on my feet, Potter."

He chuckles into her neck, "Just be glad I kept you standing, Evans," and brushes his fingers against her again. She exhales shakily and she feels him smile against her neck before he dips his hand into her pants.

" _Fuck,_ Evans," he runs his fingers up the length of her, making her tremble against him before he dips one, two fingers inside of her. He groans quietly into her ear as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, "You're so fucking wet, Lily."

She presses herself into his hand, groans, " _James._ " He seems like he wants to tease her, and, to be fair, maybe she's earned a bit of teasing, but they've already been gone for ten minutes and someone will miss them eventually.

He curls his fingers inside her, though, and she's lost all coherent thought. She rocks her hips against him, desperate for some kind of friction, and he slips his fingers out of her with a groan, presses his fingers against her clit. She moans louder than she should have, and James chuckles, "Shhh," kisses her neck as he starts rubbing quick, smooth circles against her.

Her breathing picks up, she can feel the tension starting to build, and she wants to scream it's _so fucking good,_ but she just turns her head, captures his lips with hers, groans as quietly as she can into his mouth. He kisses her for a moment before he pulls back, just a breath of space between them, and opens his eyes to watch her as he pinches her clit. She knows the bastard gets a fucking power trip off of it and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction, but she sinks into her knees a bit anyway, has to bite her lip again to keep from moaning too loudly. He swoops down and kisses her again, a smug smile on his lips, one that only gets smugger when he pinches her clit again and she moans before she can stop herself.

"You're going to get us caught," he whispers, trailing hot kisses down her neck. She groans again, presses the crown of her head into the wall, "Like you don't find that thrilling."

James grins against her neck, moves his hand from her breast to tug the neck of her dress aside, start sucking on the tops of her shoulders, "Judging by _this,_ " he sweeps his fingers down the length of her and her knees almost buckle again, "you're quite the exhibitionist yourself, Evans."

She opens her mouth to snap at him, but he moves his fingers back up to her clit before she can say anything and his fingers are moving faster this time, and she presses her lips together, whimpers quietly. The tension in her abdomen is rapidly reaching a pitch and she knows he can tell - his other hand is pinching her nipple through her dress, his mouth is burning kisses into her skin, and her breathing sharpens as he starts moving his fingers in tighter circles against her clit.

"James, I - " she sucks in a harsh, ragged breath, and James kisses the shell of her ear, "Come on, love."

He rubs three, four more circles and she bites down on her lip again, her groan echoing around them as she shudders underneath him. "Fuck," he breathes it into her skin, slows his movements gradually as she comes down, her head pressed into the concrete as she tries to steady her breathing. His fingers brush against her lightly before he pulls his hand out of her knickers altogether and he shimmies her dress back down her thighs. She spins around, presses her back against the wall, and pulls him to her, her fingers weaving into the hair as the base of his neck as she kisses him.

"Your turn?" Her hands move to his belt and he shakes his head, "We've got to get back."

She sighs, pops up onto her toes to kiss his again, "Are you sure we couldn't just - " she lets her hands slide over the buckle of his belt, raises an eyebrow. James groans, leans down and kisses her again, his hands sliding into her hair, "Don't tempt me, Evans."

She pulls back, rests her head against the concrete wall, "Maybe I _want_ to tempt you, Potter."

She knows he wants her to, too, judging by the erection currently straining against his trousers and pressing into her hip.

His mobile beeps from his jacket pocket and James sighs, "Fuck," pulls back a bit and fishes inside his jacket. He unlocks the phone and swears again, turns it around so Lily can read it.

 _Sirius Black:_ Where are you, Mum is looking for you

James sighs, "Looks like we're out of time."

Lily nods, "I guess I'll just have to take care of _that_ ," she nods significantly towards his waist, "when we get home."

James grins and he looks like he wants to step closer to her, press her back up against the wall before he thinks better of it, "I guess you will."

She lifts herself up onto her toes and kisses him again, a light, lingering kiss that makes him sigh against her lips. She smiles, falls back down onto her heels, "I'll walk back first, make my way around to Euphemia, tell her that you went to the loo or something."

James nods and Lily slides out from between him and the wall, careful not the brush against him and prolong his agony. James turns to press his back against the wall so he can watch her go, and she turns to smile at him as she reaches the door, "I promise it'll be worth the wait, Potter."

James grins, "I don't doubt it, Evans."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FanFiction decided that they wanted to take down this one shot because it was _too smutty_ so I did them one better and made it a two shot.
> 
> No one asked for this, but I'm petty.

When James walks back into the ballroom, he strides purposefully over to where Lily is standing talking with his parents. "There you are," he grins broadly and wraps his arm around her waist. Lily smiles a bit cheekily at him, "Here I am."

Euphemia smiles at James, reaches up and adjusts his hair, "You could have at least fixed your hair while you were in the bathroom, James."

James flushes a bit, colour hitting the hit points of his cheeks, and he stuffs a hair in his hair, "Blimey, Mum."

Lily laughs, smiles broadly at Euphemia, "I'm glad that it's still this easy to embarrass him."

Lily reaches up and straightens his spectacles a bit, raises a cheeky eyebrow at him. James' cheeks burns a bit brighter, from (probably) a combination of her adjustment and the memory of how they'd gotten that crooked in the first place. Fleamont laughs, a rich, booming laugh that always reminds Lily so much of James', "Oh, son, you're in trouble."

Lily smiles at Fleamont, "You tell him that every time I embarrass him."

Fleamont chuckles, "Only because I know _very well_ what he's going to be put through for the rest of his life."

James' arm twitches a bit around Lily's waist as Euphemia clicks her tongue, "Oh," and swats Fleamont's arm, "you've loved every minute of it, don't you dare pretend otherwise."

James leans over and presses a soft kiss to the side of her head, "I don't doubt I'll love it, too."

They make their way around the room a few more times, Lily's hands getting increasingly daring as they talk with this couple or that (spurred on instead of sated by their tryst in the stairs), before James finally snaps. He clears his throat, looks at Lily, "You know, love, my stomach is still bothering me a bit."

Lily frowns, knits her eyebrows together, lays a concerned hand on his arm, "Oh, no. I told you that you might overexert yourself tonight."

She turns back to Mr and Mrs Ashford, who are studying them with concerned looks on their faces, "I'm afraid we really must be going. Lovely party as _always_ , Charlotte," Lily leans forward and drops kisses to the air around both of Mrs Ashford's cheeks while James shakes Mr Ashford's hand. "So sorry, we can't stay for the auction, John - I'll make out a cheque for the foundation and slip it to Mary on our way out?"

The Ashfords are both concerned with James' apparent condition and grateful for his promised generosity, the perfect blend of aristocratic emotional expression. Lily whispers this to James as they turn to go and James has to stifle a laugh in his hand.

True to his word, James _does_ pass Mary, the charity's representative, a cheque as he and Lily pass her on their way out of the ballroom, while Lily texts Sirius that James' stomach is bothering him and could he please let their mum and dad know they've left. Sirius sends back a wink emoji that is all too knowing, but he swears to pass along the message all the same.

James' hands start brushing along her sides while they're standing on the sidewalk in front of the hotel, waiting for the car to be brought back round. She laughs as he brushes her hair over to one side, leans forward, starts trailing light kisses along the back of her neck. "We still have the drive home, you know," she tries to sound stern, but she's breathless already and the smile against her neck tells her that he's heard the want in her voice.

The attendant pulls up in James' car, jumps out of the driver's seat and walks around the front to open the door for Lily. James grins at him when he walks back to stand at the podium, shakes his hand, and hands him a banknote.

"You just tipped him some absurd amount, didn't you," Lily asks, and James climbs in, pulls the door shut, and puts the car into gear. James lets his fingers brush against her thigh when he moves the car into second, "He brought the car round in less than five minutes. _Of course_ I tipped him an absurd amount."

She rolls her eyes, "You're such a posh bastard, you know that?"

James chuckles, "Don't I know it, Evans."

James turns onto the A4 and Lily turns to him, "Going to yours or mine?"

James shoots her a look, "Do you have a preference?"

Lily shrugs, "I know Mar and Dorcas were going out tonight, but I'm not sure if they're going to be go back to our flat or Dorcas'. It's probably best we just go to yours."

"And," James moves his hand off the gearshift for a moment, rubs his hand along the inside of her thigh where her dress had ridden up, "I live a lot closer than you do."

Lily snorts, "Please, Chelsea is not _that_ must closer than Battersea. I'm just across the River!"

James moves his hand from her thigh as they hit the roundabout, turns on the A3212, "Regardless, I'd rather get you home as quickly as humanly possible."

He shoots her a look that makes her stomach clench, and when he doesn't say anything else, she decides that a bit more teasing couldn't kill him. She moves her hand over, careful not to knock the gearshift, and places her hand on James' thigh. He looks at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the road, "What are you doing, Evans?"

She shrugs, "Nothing," but she passes her hand over his groin and he groans, his hand tightening on the gearshift.

"Are you trying to get me to crash the car?" His voice sounds strained and when he looks at her again, his hazel eyes are burning into hers. She presses her palm against him, smiling as he groans and hardens under her fingertips, "Just trying to make sure you're good and ready when we get home, Potter."

He turns right onto his street just past the hospital, parks his car quicker than she's ever seen him park it in his life, and whips his seatbelt off. James doesn't bother waiting for her to get out, just slams the car door shut behind him and climbs the front stairs while he fiddles with his keys. Lily scrambles out of the car a moment after James shuts his door, wraps her arms around his waist when she reaches him, works her hands up under his open suit jacket as he tries to unlock the door.

He finally manages to get the front door unlocked and he grabs her arm from underneath his coat, pulls her into the building in front of him, kicks the door shut behind them. She is half tempted to turn around and start kissing him, but she remembers the bruised arse she got the last time she tried to do that far too well - she settles for swinging her hips a bit more than she normally would as she climbs the stairs to his second floor flat. He groans when they're about halfway up the stairs and she looks over her shoulder at him, laughs, "Not fast enough for you, Potter?" He swats her arse and she squeals, before taking the rest of the stairs at a considerably faster pace.

She can hear James fumbling with the keys behind her when they reach his landing, but he manages, miraculously, to get his door opened in a decent amount of time. He slams the door shut behind them, drops his keys unceremoniously onto the floor, and wraps his arms around her, presses his mouth to hers.

She frantically starts unbuttoning his dress shirt while he unzips her dress and pushes it over her shoulders, lets it pool at her feet. He moved his hands over her sides, his fingers spreading out over her skin as he presses her back against the wall. Her shoulders hit the wall with a huff, James shrugs out of suit jacket and it falls to the floor with a thud as her hands move between them again, popping the last of the buttons on his shirt and pushing the sleeves down over his shoulders. James kisses her neck, unhooks her bra, she undoes his belt while he lets his shirt fall off his arms and onto the floor.

James drops to his knees in front of her and puts his hands on her hips. Lily sucks in a harsh breath as he hooks his fingers over the waistband of her knickers and slides them unceremoniously off her. She picks her feet up one at a time to kick them off, and James grabs her left calf before she can put it back down, hitches her leg over his shoulder. She pulls in another ragged breath, as James leans closer to her, his eyes burning into hers. Her breathing picks up and James grins, runs his hands along the backs of her thighs, "What do you want, Evans?"

She groans, he knows bloody well what she wants, and she tells him as much. He chuckles, his hot breath blowing over her and making her leg tremble, tighten on his shoulder.

"Come on, Evans," he says, leaning forward just a bit more as he moves his hands up, grabs her arse, "just say it."

He leans forward, presses light kisses to the inside of her thigh, and she pulls in another rough breath, " _Fuck."_

He smiles against her thigh but doesn't move any farther up her leg and she knows he'll sit there all night waiting for her to ask if she's really going to be so stubborn about it. _Bastard, bastard, bastard -_ "I want your mouth on me." She sounds desperate and needy and god knows what else, but James hums against her thigh, presses his mouth against her, and she doesn't care about how ridiculous she must have sounded. He flicks his tongue against her clit and her hands move down, bury themselves in his hair, and she presses the back of her head against the wall, "Fuck, James," sucks in another ragged breath.

Normally, he's one to tease her, to move his mouth around, vary the pressure, the speed, to get her right to the edge and hold her there for as long as she can stand it, but tonight, he doesn't seem interested in prolonging things and _thank god_ because she's been desperate for him for hours. He slips two fingers inside of her, and she moans, her voice echoing around them now that she doesn't have to worry about being quiet. He hums against her and she tightens her grip in his hair, " _Fuck_."

He can tell she's close, and when he sweeps his tongue over her, curls his fingers inside her, she clenches down on him, moans loudly as James' groans against her again. He slows his tongue over her and when her fingers loosen in his hair, he grasps her hips in his hands, kisses his way up her stomach, over her breasts, before he weaves his fingers into her hair and kisses her again. She groans into his mouth, reaches down to start unbuttoning his trousers, and he smiles against her lips. Her hands are still shaking and she knows that he's proud of himself, the bastard, but she ignores him and slides his pants and trousers down his thighs, and takes him in her hand.

He breaks the kiss with a gasp as she moves her hand over him in long, firm strokes, but she only gets a few in before his hands are at her hips again, he turns her and presses her chest into the wall.

"This position again?" She casts him a look over her shoulder and he chuckles; she's surprised that he can understand her with how quickly she's breathing. "I've been thinking about fucking you like this since we were in the stairs," he says, his mouth moves to her neck and she groans, presses her forearm harder against the wall, "and I figured we might as well give it a shot."

How he can sound so annoyingly casual is beyond her, and she's about to turn around and snap at him to _just fuck her already_ when he slams into her. He doesn't bother building up to it, doesn't bother going slowly, and she groans, " _Fucking hell,_ " presses back into him to meet his thrusts. His fingers are pressing into her hips as he moves, his thrusts getting faster, deeper all the time, his mouth is hot against her neck, and she's already on edge again, trembling between his body and the wall. She moves one of her arms from the wall beside her head, brushes her fingers over her clit, and moans, clenches down on him a bit and drawing a groan from James.

"You close?" He's panting and she can tell by the way his fingers are digging into her now that he must be. He shifts the angle of his hips and hits a particularly sensitive spot, "Yeah," she groans, "Do that again."

He does and she moans, sweeps her fingers over her clit again, "Harder… I'm - "

He picks up speed as she moves her fingers, and a few more well-aimed thrusts are all that it takes to send her over the edge. He groans as soon as she starts clenching down on him, his thrusts become shallower, a bit more erratic as he rides out his orgasm.

He leans forward after a moment, presses his forehead against her shoulder blades and lets his breathing slow, trails his hands slowly up and down her sides. He takes a deep breath, presses a few light kisses to her back before he sits up, pulls back, and groans, "Fuck, we don't have a towel or anything."

He looks around for a moment before he grabs his shirt from the floor and hands it to her, "Here."

She shoots him a look, "This is a nice shirt."

He shrugs, "The bathroom is too far and I'm fairly sure you don't want to drip - "

"Ugh, god, okay, stop," she holds up a hand and cleans herself up before throwing the shirt at his head. "I can't believe you just ruined a perfectly good shirt."

James shrugs, "I've got dozens, I won't miss it."

She smacks his bare chest, "You are _such_ a posh bastard!"

James just grins, wraps his arms around her waist, and presses her against him, "You love me."

She sighs, but the smile on her lips gives her away, "I do."

He leans down and kisses her again, a soft, tender kiss a far cry from the rough, desperate ones they'd shared just a few minutes ago. She always loves this, how he can fuck her within an inch of her damn life and then weave his fingers into her hair, make her heart swell in her chest as he moves his lips over hers, reminding her how much he loves her. She smiles against his lips, and must be it infectious because he returns it before he nips her bottom lip playfully, brushes his thumb along her jaw, kisses her again.

His mobile beeps from his long abandoned jacket and James swears against her lips, "Twice in one bloody night."

Lily laughs, "At least we're done this time."

She picks up his jacket and hands it to him while she scoops the rest of their clothes off the floor, pads off into James' room to drop them into the laundry and grab herself a t shirt from his chest of drawers. James is beet red when he walks into his room a moment later, hands his phone to her. "What," she asks, smiling at him. He shakes his head, still blushing furiously, "Read it."

 _Mum_ : Nice try with the "stomach" story, James x

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://elanev91.tumblr.com/)?


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